Courtesy of Molly Smith

It’s been over two years since Molly Smith ’25 crouched in the sink of a motel bathroom with a Canon C200 in hand. Now, her seven-minute short film is streaming on Omeleto. 

The streaming platform showcases a variety of critically acclaimed shorts, which now includes Smith’s “Lioness” as of Feb. 21 of this year. “Lioness” follows a mother hiding out in a motel room from an abusive relationship, displaying her sacrifices for her daughter’s safety and innocence. The film has now been shown in over 50 festivals, including some which are Oscar-qualifying. 

“Streaming on Omeleto is an incredible goal that I’ve strived for my entire life,” Smith said. 

Director and editor Smith and the film’s actress, writer and producer Sara Oliva began work on the film back in 2020, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. Smith was in the middle of her gap year, and was introduced to Oliva through mutual friends in her hometown of Orlando, Florida. 

The project was Smith’s first time working on a narrative film, as well as her first time directing a film written by anyone other than herself. The story is inspired and informed by Oliva’s work volunteering at a domestic violence safehouse. 

While the short only contains two lines of dialogue, the script, Oliva said, went through eight or nine iterations before reaching its final form. The lack of dialogue meant the film had to rely heavily on imagery, she added.

“There are no words that can really capture that tenderness and that strength and everything that was happening in the seven minutes,” Oliva said. 

Suspenseful pull-out shots, subtle lighting contrasts and unsettlingly intimate close ups are the language of the film. The rawness of “Lioness” is also informed by the set — the film was shot entirely in a motel in Orlando. 

Oliva noted that three drug overdoses occurred at the motel during the 48-hour window in which they filmed the short. The incidents took place in the rooms directly above and below the set. 

“So everything that you hear in the film, the ambulances, the rain, the dog — that’s happening, that’s unfolding in real time,” Oliva said. “It absolutely pressed on us inside our motel room bubble. And the residue of that … It added to that sense of panic.”

These incidents seeped into the filming process and contributed to the film’s overall sense of immediacy, Oliva said, layering multiple narratives onto the story she had before only seen on paper. Rather than fight against what could have been seen as setbacks, Oliva and Smith allowed them to become a part of their story, adding to the energy on set.   

Smith’s directing and her collaboration with the actress was also a huge part of her success, she says. Without dialogue, most of her directing had to be very “sound-oriented” which was a new challenge for her. Smith had to direct actors to capture “the sound of their world” without words.

One of the scenes both creatives describe as the most taxing, was a scene set in the bathroom, during which the mother looks into the mirror at her bruised body in a moment of heightened emotions.

“I just walked in the space and Molly was so intuitive,” Oliva noted. “She allowed that space to be vulnerable and she did such a beautiful job of guiding me to where I needed to go.”

This was the very last scene they shot and Smith’s directing was key to helping set the tone and guide Oliva through the scene. She recalled holding the camera, crouched in the corner of the sink. She had the crew cut the sound and left the video rolling, saying to Oliva, “Don’t let him take your child’s happiness.” 

The pandemic presented the obvious challenge of a small crew, but Smith says she wanted it to be this way regardless. An “intimate” crew, she felt, was appropriate for the subject matter of the film, and would provide a “safer environment.”  

“In general, I like making films that feel very, very personal and very intimate,” Smith said. “While I have not been in a domestic violence situation and I don’t have this exact story, I do understand what it’s like to have an extremely close bond with your mother who’s made a lot of sacrifices to support you.”

From the beginning, both Smith and Oliva knew they never wanted to sell the film, working to ensure it could be viewed freely by anyone. 

“The greatest thing has been after we do a screening, people come up and they share their stories,” Oliva said. “Or they share their mother’s stories or their grandmother’s or their aunts … And what’s fascinating is it’s not just women. It’s men … They are very overwhelmed with their own emotion …That, no one could have prepared me for.”

Amanda Price, who works for the Florida Partnership to End Domestic Violence plans to share the film with “the 41 DV certified shelter programs statewide,” expressing her gratitude for “Lioness” and its efforts to empower and strengthen individuals affected by domestic violence.  

Rather than labeling those affected by domestic violence as victims, Smith and Oliva’s seven-minute short hopes to frame them as “lionesses,” survivors who are worth more than their abuse.

“We rarely see films that are purely about the strength between a bond of a mother and child and the sacrifices … And this is a story only about that,” Smith told the News. “It’s not about the abuser at all. And that I think is really powerful.”

To the lionesses “roaming these jungles” Oliva said she wanted them to know that “they’re not alone.”

“Maybe you didn’t have that experience,” Oliva said. “But you know somebody that has and you’ve supported them and you’ve loved them … The world’s full of lionesses and we’re not going anywhere.”

“Lioness” won the award for best short at the Fort Myers Beach International Film Festival.